


Schrodinger's Happy Endings

by squirenonny



Series: Voltron: Duality [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 13:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14812556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirenonny/pseuds/squirenonny
Summary: A series of post-war flufflets for Dualityverse. Are they canon? Are they AU? The answer is yes.





	1. Shiro/Matt - Wedding Planning

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in mind for a while--a fic where I get to write lots of post-war happiness without worrying about spoiling the rest of _Duality_. And, well, I had a shitty week and I wrote this first chapter to cheer myself up, so screw it. I'm starting this project.
> 
> Disclaimer: This fic is called Schrodinger's Happy Endings for a reason. The point is to write cute, fluffy stuff without any particular regard for any bad things that may be coming. You can consider the stories you find here to be both canon and non-canon to Dualityverse until you either read far enough to find out whether anything in Duality ends up contradicting it or ask me privately about it. (Seriously, as with the main Duality stories, you can message me on Tumblr or on Discord and I'll tell you as much or as little as you need to know for your own peace of mind about who survives the series.)
> 
> (Also, yes, this is technically the "Nobody Dies" AU, but it's not like I'm killing off the entire cast in the first place. The majority of what you'll find here is in fact canon, and even when it's not, the thing I don't want to spoil isn't necessarily always character death.)
> 
> Anyway, feel free to request characters and/or scenarios to be added to this collection. It's going to be an on-going project probably through the end of the series, updated sporadically when I have time and/or feel the need to inject some positivity into the world.

"Okay, I'm heading this off now before it becomes an issue, because I really don't want to have to call off the wedding." Matt steepled his hands in front of his mouth. "I call dibs on Keith as best man."

Shiro's typing stopped, and Matt grinned. He crossed his arms on the back of the desk chair and leaned down as Shiro turned to protest, silencing him with a kiss.

"Before you say anything," Matt murmured, "consider this: if you let me have Keith, I won't fight you for Akira."

Shiro spun the chair around, fixing Matt with a _look_. "You won't fight me," he said. "For _my_ brother?"

Matt plopped down sideways on Shiro's lap, looping his arms around his neck. "Good deal, right?"

Shiro shook his head. "This is what we get for having the exact same friend group."

Matt kissed the tip of his nose, still smiling as the gesture knocked Shiro's computer glasses askew. "It sucks, I know," he said dryly. "So do we have a deal?"

"...I feel like I'm getting swindled here, but I'm not quite sure how."

With a laugh, Matt stretched his leg out, absently massaging his knee. The last few days had been jam packed with touring potential venues for both the wedding and the reception, and it had left him a little achy. Even with his brace, there was only so much standing around he could take. He'd almost been ready to brave the paparazzi and do the last few tours in his paladin armor, which had better support, but Shiro had unfortunately talked some sense into him.

On the upside, they had nothing much planned for the rest of the week. Getting quotes from photographers and figuring out how to adequately thank the Kahales, who had offered to handle both catering and filmography and wouldn't accept payment for either.

So, really, Matt didn't have to move from this chair for the next seventy-two hours unless he wanted to. Or Shiro kicked him off.

"Swindled?" Matt asked innocently. "I'm not swindling anyone. It's a completely reasonable compromise however you want to slice it. We should both have dibs on siblings and co-paladins, right?"

Shiro narrowed his eyes. "I suppose..."

"Cool. Cause I kinda already asked Keith and Pidge before I realized I probably should have talked to you about it first."

Shiro took off his computer glasses, folded them in one hand, and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. "Of course you did."

A smile tugged at his lips, and Matt smacked his chest with the back of his hand. "Hey. It was late and I was emotionally compromised by  _Lilo and Stitch,_ and it just sort of slipped out." Shiro mouthed the words  _Lilo and Stitch_ , apparently trying to figure out what that had to do with planning a wedding, and Matt hurried on before he got interrogated about late-night Disney exploits. "But seriously--how could I _not_ ask them?"

"No, you're right." Shiro tucked his glasses into his shirt pocket and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Have anyone else in mind?"

Matt leaned his head against Shiro's shoulder, swallowing a yawn. "On the one hand, yes. On the other hand... We should probably decide how many groomsmen--groomsfolk? How many groomsfolk we want. Because I'm tempted to say fuck it and just ask everyone."

"There comes a point where that plan becomes untenable."

Matt snorted. "What, you don't want to try to coordinate a hundred groomsfolk? Anyway, what about you? Who are you going to ask?"

"Akira, Allura, and Lance." Shiro didn't even have to think about it--not that Matt was at all surprised. "I would ask Keith, but to be honest, I kinda figured you would want to, and three is a nice, manageable number."

Matt nodded. Three was a good number, except that it meant he had to figure out one more person to ask. Nyma, maybe? Or maybe Hunk. Or Val. Or... Matt whined into Shiro's shirt. "I don't wanna pick. Can't we just clone Akira and have him on both sides?"

"We are _not_ cloning my brother. I don't think the universe would survive."

"Aww, come on, don't you want to be a triplet?"

Shiro laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and tickling Matt's ear. "Matt?"

"Hm?"

"How late did you stay up last night?"

"Like... three? Four? You know how Pidge and Keith get. I stopped checking the clock at some point."

Humming, Shiro reached up to thread his fingers through Matt's hair, which only made Matt melt even more in his lap. "And then I woke you up with my alarm."

Matt cracked one eye open and tilted his head back to glare at him. "Don't you dare apologize for that. I could have crashed in Pidge's room if it bothered me that much."

"Still, I think maybe you should consider a nap."

"Blasphemy," Matt muttered.

Shiro's breath tickled Matt's ear. "I'm serious. As cute as you are when you're sleep-deprived--and as much as I like Snuggly Matt--I don't think you really want to be making any big decisions right now."

Matt wrinkled his nose and squinted at the laptop sitting on the desk beside them. Shiro had a document open that already had information on five photographers. "You're one to talk. What, did you sit here staring at the clock so you could call the second these places opened?"

"No," Shiro said. "I went for a run to pass the time and started calling when I got back."

Matt laughed. "Same difference. You were up pretty late last night last night yourself. Maybe you're the one who should--" A yawn interrupted him, and Shiro laughed again, patting Matt's shoulder.

"Are you asking me to come take a nap with you?"

"No." Matt sniffed. "I'm just saying I'm not taking a nap without you. I thought we agreed that you wouldn't stress yourself out by obsessing over all the details."

Shiro gaped at him. "I'm not obsessing!"

"No, you're just doing all the reconnaissance yourself. You're part of a team, remember."

Shiro opened his mouth, then went still, only snapping his mouth shut when Matt poked him in the nose. "Sorry. I was just thinking about sending Pidge to gather intel on prospective vendors."

Matt burst out laughing, his knees pulling up to his chest so he almost rolled off of Shiro's lap. "Can we? Takashi. Takashi, please. We'd get so many discounts."

"We're not siccing Pidge on poor, unsuspecting photographers, Matt."

"Aww, boo."

Shiro laughed, prodding Matt in the side until he stood. "Come on. Short nap, and then I'll catch you up on the places I've called so far."

Matt groaned as he pulled himself to his feet and leaned on Shiro all the way to the bedroom--but really, he couldn't complain. He'd take all the lazy mornings with his fiance that the world had to offer.


	2. Pidge & Sam - Ella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *slides in half a year late with tea* Oh, is this still happening?
> 
> Yes. The answer is yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is.... late. Very late. *flops* Life has been sucky lately, blah, blah, blah. Point is, Orelia asked me for some post-war Pidge and Sam fluff ages ago and I finally got around to finishing it. It kinda turning into Holt Family fluff in general, but I don't think anyone's complaining about that. ;)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Pidge still found ways to lose themself in projects, even years after the war. In building navigational computers for the Alliance, in digital archives for the fragments of history other people would sort through and disseminate to try to fill in the holes left behind by Zarkon's reign. In silly things, sometimes. Just fun little personal projects that kept them busy and kept them from feeling guilty about living their own life for once instead of continuing on in the business of saving people and defeating evil.  
  
Today, it was one of those rare projects that straddled the line between personal and practical. They were developing an AI that would... well, it would do a lot of things, ideally. They'd drawn inspiration from Rover and Beezer, which meant, in a sense, they were trying to create a sentient, sapient, self-aware being from spare parts.  
  
It was a little bit daunting, when they thought of it that way.  
  
But they couldn't back down now, not when they'd already gushed about the project to Hunk. For four hours. The man had the patience of a saint, but he'd never let them live it down if they balked on a project they'd dreamed up on their own. Especially when they'd laughed at his comment on how it might be better to come at the problem in smaller chunks.  
  
Well, they were coming at it in smaller chunks. They had the language and scientific databases all ready to go, and they'd been making machines to automate simple mechanical repairs for long enough that they weren't worried about that.  
  
The personality core was another matter entirely.  
  
Before they could get to the complex AI, however, they needed to fix an issue with the arc welder. Something was catching, or there was a crossed wire or something, and the welder kept activating at the most inopportune times. Like when Pidge asked the little ball of fun to grab their sweatshirt. She'd almost set Pidge's room on fire three times today.  
  
"Goddamnit, Ella," Pidge muttered, shutting her down as she made a beeline for her charger, arc welder held aloft like a frickin' sparkler. "Is it too late to change your name? I'm thinking Herostratus." They popped of a panel and reached in to manually disconnect the welder's power supply until they could figure out what was wrong. Buggy code, maybe? Damn it.  
  
Ella's name really didn't do her justice. Back when they'd started the project, Pidge had named the chassis--jokingly, and with every intention to give her a real name later--the Lovechild of Rover and Beezer. That had gotten shortened to LRB in short order, which somehow had mutated into Ellorbee, over the course of many a late night vid call to the castle, Hunk and Shay's Balmera, and Matt's apartment (Shiro having declared himself in a state of quantum entanglement such that whenever Pidge called after midnight, he correspondingly did not live at that address.)  
  
No one listened when Pidge said that was a working title, and since they didn't really want to try to explain where it came from, so... The name stuck.  
  
Pidge carried Ella back to their desk where they plugged her in to take a look at her code. Maybe they'd screwed something up... Somewhere. Just as they were starting to dig in, however, there came a knock on their door.  
  
"Pidge? You planning on joining us for dinner tonight?"  
  
Pidge's eyes darted to the clock in the corner of their laptop screen and groaned. Six already? "Sorry, Dad," they said, leaning back in their chair. "I lost track of time."  
  
Sam grinned. "I figured. You at a good stopping point?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Ah." Sam held up his hands. "Say no more. Any way I can help?"  
  
There was a funny thing Pidge had noticed about their process, and that was that pride was a major factor right up until it wasn't. Hunk made one comment about biting off more than they could chew, and suddenly honor demanded that they finish--and without help. They'd been slogging away at Ella for months now, painstakingly ticking every box on their to-do list one at a time. (And then un-ticking them as bugs cropped up and they had to go back to fix things.)  
  
Last month, last week--even just an hour ago, Pidge would have bristled at the very offer of help.  
  
Now, they sagged in their desk chair and gave their dad a pitiful look. "Please?"  
  
He chuckled and pulled a milk crate over to sit on. "You know I'm always happy to help. What's the problem?"  
  
"Ella's gone rogue," they said, and brought up the bug report they'd created for the issue.  
  
Sam read through it, his brow furrowing. "Well that's not ideal."  
  
"I can't figure out where the problem is. I've checked the wiring and any other potential mechanical failures, and I've turned up zilch. Which means it's probably in the code somewhere, but hell if I know where." They reached for their energy drink, then scowled when they found the can empty. "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope if I don't want to spend the next seventy-two hours painstakingly combing through a billion lines of code."  
  
Sam ruffled their hair, then laid his hand on Ella's casing and delved into the computer at her core. Snatching up the Olkari headset waiting on the corner of their desk, Pidge followed.  
  
Even after all these years, there was something inherently baffling about this space--the pseudo-VR arena conjured when they connected mentally with computer code. The space was a mental construct, facilitated by the Olkari headset and designed to make it easier to interface with the computer. This ran deeper than the things they'd learned from Ryner, who'd always preferred DNA to C++. It went beyond simply using the headset to relay mental commands to plants and tech. This was submerging themself in the code for a more hands-on approach.  
  
It also tended to give them a headache, which was why they rarely used the headset while programming--except when their dad was there. He moved through this space like he'd been born to it, flickering here and there too fast for Pidge to track. He perceived this space differently than Pidge did, though he'd never been able to articulate it well.  
  
_That's what I get for being self-taught,_ he'd joked, when Pidge finally worked up the courage to ask. Sam's time in the druids' hands hadn't left him without his scars, but he'd refused to let them have this.  
  
They followed him now, trying to mimic his movements. He'd taught them about interfacing with computers, but it seemed there was always more to learn, and now wasn't the best time. If they weren't down for dinner in a few minutes, Pidge's mother was going to come looking.  
  
Still, It couldn't hurt to do a quick search. See if their dad was able to turn up any problems. It would save time in the long run, so their mom couldn't really complain...

* * *

  
In actuality, it was almost an hour before they dragged themselves out of the code, and that only because Shiro came up and flashed the lights a few times.  
  
"Works better than knocking," he said with a grin as Pidge grudgingly set their headset aside. They hadn't found the bug yet--though they had identified two others with their dad's help, and had worked them out.  
  
There was something incredible about interfacing with tech with their dad like this. It reminded them a little bit of the paladin bond--not quite so direct, maybe, but the way their minds brushed up against one another, the way they could sense each others' thoughts without words--it was familiar, and Pidge hadn't even questioned it when, through their dad, they'd felt the fluctuations in the power supply as Shiro flipped the switched.  
  
They pulled off their headset reluctantly, the code drawing them back toward it like a magnet. "Mom didn't need to send you up here," they said sullenly. "We were almost done."  
  
Shiro and Sam locked eyes, carrying on an entire conversation in the quirk of Shiro's eyebrow and the smile that tugged at Sam's lips.  
  
"Don't," Pidge said, holding up a hand before Shiro could say anything. It was anyone's guess whether he'd have apologized or just teased them about their poor time management skills. They shoved against the desk, sending their chair sliding across the room so they could lean back and peer out the door onto the landing. "Ma-aatt! Your husband's bullying me!"  
  
"Takashi," Matt called back, his voice bored and slightly muffled. "We've talked about this. You need to blackmail them, too, or they're just going to tattle on you."  
  
Shiro laughed, stepping gracefully aside as Pidge tore out of the room and down the stairs. They skipped the last two steps, vaulted over the back of the couch, and landed directly on Matt's chest. The breath rushed out of him in a wheeze, and he curled in on himself, dislodging Pidge and sending them to the floor.  
  
"Holy shit, Pidge. You're not the little gremlin you used to be."  
  
Pidge grinned up at him from the floor. "You think you'd remember that instead of picking on your big sibling, but no. You still do it anyway."  
  
A pillow smacked them in the face before they could say anything more, and Matt followed up with two couch cushions before flopping on top of the pile, effectively pinning them. They kicked out, trying to unseat him, as their dad and Shiro finally came down the stairs.  
  
"And here I thought we were past the roughhousing stage," Sam said with a sigh.  
  
Shiro chuckled. "I guess two months is just too long for them to go without seeing each other. That's what we get for taking a vacation."  
  
Pidge shoved the pillow off their face and craned their neck to look at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Shiro. This has nothing to do with your vacation."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No," Matt said. "This has to do with Pidge _betraying_ me--"  
  
"Hitting another growth spurt."  
  
"You're taller than me! That's not fair!"  
  
"I've spent eighteen years being shorter than everyone around me, Matt. Let me have this."  
  
"Never."  
  
He shoved the pillow back in their face, but it was only another moment before their mother rapped her knuckles on the wall to break them up. "Dinner," she called. " _Please_. Before it gets even colder."

Pidge could hear Sam talking to her in a low voice with that teasing edge he always adopted when he was trying to make Karen laugh. She resisted, but by the time Matt rolled off of Pidge and Shiro helped them both to their feet, Sam had coaxed her into a slow dance, a wooden spoon dripping sauce held between their hands. Karen laughed into his shoulder.

"No," she said through a smile. "No more distractions until we've eaten. Some of us are starving in here." She pulled away as Sam started to answer, tapping him on the nose with her spoon. The spoon left behind a bright red spot that made Karen laugh all over again as Sam stared at her, agape. They disappeared into the kitchen, and Pidge draped themself across Matt's shoulders as he followed. Their weight made him overbalance, and he fell against Shiro, who sighed toward the ceiling as the muffled conversation drifted out from the kitchen.

"So what was so important you had to be an hour late to dinner?"

"Oh, you know. Trying to keep the robot from burning down the house."

Pidge couldn't help but grin at the silence that followed Sam's words, and they finally let up on Matt to dart ahead of him as he arched an eyebrow in their direction.

"Burning down the house?" he asked. "And you didn't invite me?"

Pidge laughed, walking backwards into the kitchen. "Next time."

"Nope." Karen settled a hand on Pidge's shoulder and spun them around, guiding them toward an empty seat. "No. There's not going to be a next time."

Pidge sat, holding up their hands in surrender, but they caught their dad's eye and grinned. There would be a next time, of course. There was always a _next time._ They were Holts; it was in their DNA.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, requests for this fic are open, though I make no promises about when they will be filled or in what order. Leave a comment with your request, send an ask on [Tumblr](http://squirenonny.tumblr.com), or scream at me on Discord. I'll be keeping a running list of requests, along with my own ideas for this series, and I'll pull from it whenever I get the urge to update.


End file.
